Salvaging Rapture
by NoNameForOldFish
Summary: November, 1986. A mysterious woman nominally working for an oil company hires a group of armed-to-the-teeth mercenaries to accompany her to the north-atlantic on a mission to explore for oil. Her true agenda is revealed when they discover Rapture.
1. Prologue

So, here we have my Bioshock Fanfiction. Just a little something I wrote up very quickly.

It takes place in the '80s, so that's a decade after Bioshock 2. Needless to say, things have changed.

Would you kindly enjoy the fic?

* * *

"Twenty minutes? That is perfectly acceptable. My employers will be pleased." Veronica Langley said.

Veronica and Security Chief Benjamin Knowles were standing alone in the battered ruins of an old lighthouse.

"Very well, ma'am. I'll relay the projects status to Commander Fowl in the next progress report." Benjamin said.

"Oh, don't bother with that. I'll call him up right now." Veronica pulled out a large vanilla-colored brick out of one of her many coat pockets. "This, my friend, is a 'cell phone,' it's going to replace land lines in a decade or two."

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"Go get your team ready, Benji. Remember: Twenty minutes until I launch this thing. I won't hesitate to leave you behind." Veronica began punching in buttons on her mobile phone. Benjamin left her and walked outside.

Inside the remains of the lighthouse, Benjamin was insulated from the cold. Outside, however, the elements were downright oppressive. Even in his heavy jacket, Benjamin couldn't help but shiver.

Benjamin was an officer in Fowl Securities, a Private Military Corporation. The company president, Kerrigan Fowl, had been called up a few weeks ago by Langley with a proposition. He'd thrown this mission into Bens lap rather suddenly.

They'd been promised salvage and a prodigious sum of money. The money had flooded into their account mere hours after accepting the job. Salvage was nowhere to be found. Sure, there were dozens of decades-old freighters and a few planes sunken in the vicinity, but nothing that they could make a profit off of.

Langley's oil tanker had brought them to this place. It was moored up next to this lighthouse. Benjamin climbed the gangplank. His men rose to address him.

"Okay, we've got just under twenty minutes before the submersible becomes functional. I want a three man squad to come with me, no more."

"Hey, boss, I think we've found something that you'll really want to take a look at." interrupted William Norris, one of his subordinates. Will motioned over to a tarp on the starboard side of the ship.

"What've we got?" Ben asked.

William's brother Jonathan Norris was sitting on the railing next to the tarp. On Bens order, he flipped the tarp over, revealing a weathered and beaten corpse. Benjamin repressed the desire to gag a little.

There was something not quite right about the corpse. Its nose was deformed, folded down under a flap of skin. Bulging, cancerous growths had developed around this man's neck. Most disturbing of all were a pair of hooks, seemingly grafted directly into the man's hands, the remnants of which had been melded together with some kind of fleshy organic webbing.

"It looks like he's been dead for a few days, Captain. Funny thing is, no fish have taken any bites out of him." William said.

The conversation was joined by Sonya, one of the newer recruits. "You know, for a minute there I was worried that we wouldn't have anything to shoot on this operation."

Ben immediately gave her an order to be quiet. His gazed moved from the disfigured corpse out to the sea, where a few stray icebergs were floating about in the distance. He was starting to get the impression that this was more than a simple expedition, and that Veronica was after a more than just a spot to park an oil rig.

Benjamin updated the mission plan so that ten people would accompany Veronica in their submersible vehicle.

They were crammed in the sub with little room to spare, a fact that was not helped in the least by Sonya's insistence bringing a massive heavy backpack along for the ride.

Will and John were piloting the craft. Ben and Veronica were sitting directly behind them. Newbies Sonya and Jenkins had window seats, while longtime company assets Hans, Knox, Gordon, and Smirnov were sandwiched in-between them. The ever so quiet Soren had climbed in the submarine first, and taken the back seat, where he sat in a Zen-like meditative state.

Ben had left security on the ship in the capable hands of his second in command, Cameron. He had twenty additional mercenaries waiting back at the ship.

Only Veronica actually knew what they were going to find down here. Even the token science team that Veronica had stashed away in the bowels of the boat had no idea what she was thinking bringing them up to this remote section of the north-Atlantic.

Veronica ordered Will to take them down to the very bottom of the ocean floor. Soon the lighthouse disappeared, and they were swallowed by the murky blackness of the open ocean.

Something had kicked up a lot of dirt recently, reducing visibility to nil. Luckily, their small sub was packed to the gills with the finest deep sea exploration technology that money could buy circa 1986.

"I'm telling you, I think I saw some lights down there!" Jenkins insisted throughout the journey. It fell on Sonya and Gordon to shut him up.

Towards the end of the journey, the sonar went nuts. Veronica instructed them to head down what looked like an underwater gulley. John maneuvered their ride down dangerously close to the ocean bottom.

Eventually, the dust cleared, and a building was now visible from the forward windows.

The squad didn't have much time to gawk, as Veronica ordered them into a narrow passageway dubbed "bathysphere terminal." Suddenly, Benjamin was thankful that he had ordered his team to bring weapons into the sub against regulations.

* * *

More to come...


	2. Ch 1 Welcome to Rapture

Part two! This wouldn't upload for a long time. Works now, though, so we're good.

* * *

Veronica didn't even wait for the crew to carry out standard safety checks or depressurization, instead opting to throw the submersibles' hatch open and jump out into unexplored territory. With little else in the way of options, Ben ordered his squad to head out after her.

They had parked the sub in a small alcove with easy access to a solid ground. While the structure was obviously man-made, there was no light to speak of. The squad switched on some flashlights, but between the ten of them they could never cover more than 20% of the room at any one time.

"Hey, Veronica, where are you?" Ben yelled. William and John were crouched, covering both of his flanks.

"Not sure where she went." Gordon said, staying back near the sub. "By the time we got out, she was gone."

"I'm over here, Benji." Veronica said quietly from somewhere off to their left.

"What are you doing!?" Ben yelled.

"Shh! Not so loud!" Veronica snapped. She then lowered her own voice a few octaves. "I'm opening some windows; it may give us a little more light in here."

In the meantime, Soren went through some items strewn about the floor. There was the odd piece of luggage, and what appeared to be protest placards. Unfortunately they were too old and weathered to read.

There was a quick spark of electricity as Veronica rigged a distant generator. An entire wall in front of them shifted upwards. A series of three metal safety blinds retracted, revealing long room-tall windows. Dozens of feet above them, this feat was repeated with windows on the ceiling.

On the other side of the glass, several miles in the distance, they could see the distinct "skyline," if you could call it that, of a city on the ocean floor. Most of the buildings were in various states of collapse, but there was the occasional glimmer of light in some of the high rises.

Ben and the rest of the squad stared in astonishment. Veronica came into view and told them to pick their jaws up off the floor.

"Interesting. Distinct Art Deco architecture dates this facility somewhere from the 1930's on to the postwar period. The state of decay would indicate that it has been derelict for well over twenty years." Soren was the only person other than Veronica who was unfazed by all this.

"Veronica!" Benjamin yelled. "We're going to need an explanation, now!"

"Not so loud, Benji. These blinds will have generated enough noise already. We'd best be prepared."

"I need to know where we are, now."

"You're man seems to have deduced the gist of it already." Veronica gestured towards Soren. "I knew that Fowl Securities employed soldiers that were smarter than your average grunts. You guys' be fine."

"Captain, we've got some movement over by the sub." Gordon said.

"Hey, hey, I saw something over behind that table!" Sonya screamed.

"It's just your imagination." Smirnov scoffed.

"No, no! It looked like a person, and jumped up to the ceiling once I shined the flashlight on it!"

"Hey, Boss, I think we'd best bet getting out of here." Will said.

Years of operating out of California had rendered the squads accents bland and uniform. You could tell when things were going poorly when the old accents relapsed. William and John had their American Southern drawl. Gordon's Glasgow accent rendered him virtually incomprehensible when compared with Smirnov's Ukrainian and Hans German accent. Benjamin's accent returned to its original Afrikaans style.

"Veronica, you're after more than just oil deposits. If you've lead my team into a deathtrap, I'll kill you myself." Ben leveled his assault rifle in Veronica's direction.

Opening the blinds was a big mistake. For one, it had caused quite the ruckus. While it did provide a little more light, it also cast long shadows in every crevasse of the room. It actually made it harder to see and easier to hide. There were voices now, mutterings coming from the shadows. Flashlights were darting wildly from corner to corner.

Veronica began to laugh madly. She tied her long black hair up in a sensible ponytail, and retrieved a small handgun from its holster.

"Kill me? Oh, Benji, get in line!" Glass shattered, and Gordon started firing.

"Shit! Shit! They're climbing into the submersible!" Gordon screamed.

Will and John ran back in an attempt to reinforce Gordon's position, but were cut off when a hulking monstrosity jumped down from the ceiling, obstructing their path.

This beast was nearly the size of a Volkswagen, and had a third arm grafted onto its back, arched over its hunched back. Its left eye was entirely consumed by boils, and it was wearing soaked and tattered rags that were still moderately recognizable as a business suit.

In the creatures two natural hands it held a pair of machine guns. It's third hand appeared to be frozen over and clenched in a fist. Will and John moved in to engage it, while Sonya went wild with an assault rifle.

Amidst the chaos Veronica was standing in place, humming some decades-old jingle. She turned around and addressed Benjamin nonchalantly. "By the way, welcome to Rapture.

* * *

If you're wondering, I'm trying to see how fast I can upload individual chapters to a story. I'm going for consistency. Say, one chapter per 1-3 days?


	3. Ch 2 Retreat!

Benjamin moved in to help Will and John with this new threat. He pulled out his sidearm and emptied the clip into the brutes face.

The creature blocked the rounds from Will and Johns heavier assault rifles with its massive forearm. With a roar, it left this defensive stance and lunged at the trio.

John was bowled clear over and sent somersaulting into a wall. William managed to dodge the initial lunge. Unfortunately for Ben, this sent the monster on a direct course towards his position.

Suddenly, Soren leapt onto the monster and plunged a knife into the base of his neck. With its spine severed, the creature collapsed to the floor. Soren glided the knife out of the wound and wiped the blood off on his sleeve.

"Hey, Gordon, I need a sit-rep!" Benjamin cried.

"Three of these… things just gutted the submersible!" Gordon yelled. "It's a total loss. Hans got a chuck taken out of his shoulder, but other than that we're okay save for a few bruises."

"Rendezvous at our position." Ben ordered. He turned to Veronica, who had largely ignored the confrontation and gotten to work on a nearby door. "I think our charge may know a way out of here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Veronica asked. "Look, Benji, we are not quite safe in here. After we barricade ourselves into a dead-end room, then whoever is left alive can ask me all the questions they want." Veronica was punctuated by a collective series of growls which seemed to emanate from the very walls. The squad tensed up, forming a defensive circular formation.

William had picked up his brother off the floor. John leaned against him, using him as a crutch while holding a gun in his free hand. The sound of metal scrapping against the wall kept getting louder and louder.

"Okay, concentrate your fire on one at a time. Conserve your ammo; we're running low as it is."

More whispers coming from back at the sub. They still couldn't see anything.

"Uh, boys, I suggest that we get moving." Veronica said, waving as the door grinded open at a painfully slow pace.

Sonya, Jenkins, an injured Hans, and Smirnov all looked at Ben, awaiting orders. "Well, get moving, through the door!"

Before they had the chance to move out, something dropped from the ceiling and gutted Gregory. In a flash, it jumped back out of sight. The squad was out of the room by the time Greg's corpse hit the floor.

---

Veronica led them into a narrow chokepoint of a hallway. A thin layer of glass was all that was separated them from the crushing depths of the ocean. Luckily, none of the stray bullets seemed to make more than a dent.

… And there were many stray bullets ricocheting down the corridor. It was hard enough to aim properly during a fighting retreat. Few of their attackers were actually wielding guns, but those that did proved to be even less accurate than Benjamin's men. Knox received a glancing blow from a pistol round, but was back in formation without breaking stride.

They made it to a door at the end of the corridor. Sonya, Hans, Jenkins, and Knox shot at anything coming up behind them while Soren and Vanessa tried to get the door open.

By the time the door opened, they were running low on ammo. Ben and William ran in first, bringing John in with them. They had arrived in some kind of kitchen storeroom. Soren and Vanessa went about securing the room while Will and Benjamin propped John up on a box with

The rear guard filed in next. Unfortunately, Hans got hit in the gut by a most peculiar harpoon weapon. Attached to the harpoon was a rocket, which activated, sending the now-lifeless body of Hans reeling about in the corridor like a ragdoll. The rocket eventually detonated, destroying the nearest wave of enemies.

The door began to close, but one stray pistol round hit Benjamin in the gut. He fell to the floor squirming in pain as the door sealed shut and Vanessa began making preparations to weld it shut permanently.

* * *

Next chapter: We get to meet the main villains second in command!


	4. Ch 3 All spliced up

I decided to split this chapter up into two parts. Big Brother will show up in 3 and a half.

* * *

"Okay, Ben is out of it for the moment, I need a sit-rep, who's not dead?" Will asked.

Ben was on the floor with his back to a box. The bullet passed right under his vest, but they had managed to stop the bleeding for the most part. Knox's flesh wound had begun to fester. It would probably become gangrenous if they didn't get it looked at soon. John was in stable condition, though walking unaided was out of the question.

They were in a storage room for an old fishery. The cooling systems had long sense failed. Any fish that the room once housed had rotted away decades ago. The smell was atrocious.

William performed a roll call. Soren was sitting on a storage box, back in his meditative zenlike state. Sonya was in a corner by herself, guarding that backpack of hers. Jenkins… where _did _he go? Will swore that Jenkins had run into the room with the rest of them, but now he was gone. The squad had about three magazines of ammo left between them. Will let out a sigh of exhaustion; he really needed Benjamin back up on his feet, giving the orders.

"Hey, Veronica, where are you? I need to borrow that phone of yours." William said.

"What, you mean this?" Veronica emerged from behind a stack of boxes that she had been rummaging around in. She held her 'cell phone' up in both hands and hefted it up for Will to see. "Do you really think that this is going to work at these depths? Perhaps you missed that massive satellite dish I had rigged up on the back of our oil tanker? That only works at distances of 100 meters or so."

"Well then, we need some way to contact the surface. Cameron will send some reinforcements."

"Trust me, Willie; everybody up on the surface is already dead at this point. There's no turning back now." Veronica scoffed.

"Would you kindly tell us just where the hell we are?" Knox asked, clutching his shoulder wound.

"To be blunt: We're in a city called Rapture. It was founded by a utopian-libertarian just after the Second World War with the expressed goal of serving as a haven from the notion of God and traditional forms of governance. Obviously there were some… complications." Veronica disappeared back behind the crates.

"I just want to know how to get out of here." Will said.

"We won't be doing that, not with three clips of ammo, anyway. We need some leverage!" A loud metal-on-metal scraping sound was heard, and Veronica reemerged, pushing a very large pink vending machine.

"You probably can't see past the rust, but this thing is called a Gatherers Garden." Veronica explained.

"Used to be, breaking into one of these things would cause every security system in the city to home in on you. I'm pretty sure that security is beyond compromised at this point, so…" with a swift punch, Veronica broke the glass of the Gardens' display window. She wiped out a vial of viscous red fluid and tossed it to William, "Hey, fearless leader, try this. Just inject it into your vein."

"Hey, lady, just how do you know all of this?" Sonya asked.

Veronica pulled some more vials out of the machine. "Ah, knowledge of this place is more common than you'd think. A fair number of people were able to make it topside back in the 60's. Obviously, this makes for a nice story to tell at a bar. I just eavesdropped on the stories of a drunken old man and viola, learned everything that I needed to know."

Will considered his options. Veronicas every mannerism screamed 'hidden agenda.' On the other hand, nobody this clearly mischievous could actually be openly antagonistic. After a few deep breaths, Will plunged the needle right into a vein on his right arm.

Immediately, William began to feel his entire body heat up. It kept getting worse, right up until his hands burst into flames before his eyes!

Eventually, the shock of this incident forced him down to his knees. Soren and the others moved in to help him, but were deterred by the scalding flames.

"Relax everybody." Veronica said, now sitting on top of the Gatherers Garden. "We're just rewriting his genetic code! After we all use these, we'll be able to tear a bloody swathe through that horde of splicers and make it back to the surface posthaste!"

---

"Finally, you're awake!"

Will awoke with his hands still molten and on fire, but at a noticeably controlled rate. Veronica was standing next to a decaying storage box. "Okay, I need you to snap at this box." She told him. William snapped with his left hand, and the box burst into flames.

"You've been injected with something called Adam." Veronica explained. "You'll go insane after months of continuous use, but I seriously doubt that you guys are going to be down here for that long. This will give you all a chance against the splicers."

"Hey, William, you're awake." Knox said, emerging from behind the Gathers Garden with electricity arcing down his arm clear to his shoulder. "After you lost consciousness, we were going to shoot her, but Ben woke up and told us to stand down."

Benjamin strode up beside Knox. Both of their wounds were healed.

"Most importantly, the first dose of Adam allows the gene therapies present in Raptures health kits and kiosks to heal you to a greater extent. Now, if you'll excuse me…" Veronica swiftly kicked a panel of air vent grating. "… I suggest we get moving to the nearest bathysphere station. If any of them are still working, then they'll be our ticket out of here."


	5. Chapter 4

Bleh! I had a cold this week, made looking at a computer screen really hard. It hurt my eyes.

Alas, this new chapter is up now.

* * *

"Jenkins, where are you? If you are still alive out there, please respond. That's an order." Benjamin said into the squad radio system.

"You're going to betray our position, Benji. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's dead by this point." Veronica responded.

While the squad had a simple walkie-talkie system, it was only operational within around forty meters. This was useful for firefights in close quarters, but wholly useless when searching for a lone squad mate in the ruined metal catacombs of Rapture.

Veronica had been leading them through the city's ventilation ducts for nearly two hours now. The vents were large enough that the group could easily crawl through while crouching.

Soren had come up with a theory for this. He said that, since the city lacked access to the surface, all air would have to be produced down here. The original builders would have used these extra large ducts to move the air to each building.

Of course, the original builders were long gone by this point. Now only their insane mutated descendants remained. Ben would occasionally see them through gratings in the ducts, and holes in the wall. They would always be fighting amongst themselves, or sucking the bone marrow out of a corpse. So far, it seemed that none of them had noticed the squads trek through the ventilation system.

"Interesting," Veronica muttered, bringing the entire convoy to a halt. She put her hand on a rough section of wall that was a shade lighter than all the rest. "It seems that there was a leak in here at one point. Somebody has repaired it."

"So what?" Sonya interrupted.

"I'm just saying, maybe the situation down here hasn't devolved into total anarchy just yet. Maybe somebody is still sane enough to call the shots."

"I don't know about, lady, but I don't plan on staying down here long enough to find out. Can we get to wherever it is you're leading us?"

"Oh, but we're already here." Veronica nodded towards a bit of grating on the opposite wall. Sonya wasted no time in squirming over Knox in an effort to get to the exit. She kicked the grate out, dropped to the floor, and was out into the hallway without even bothering to check for enemies.

"Sonya, get back here!" Benjamin ordered. The rest of the squad quickly filed out. .

--

They found Sonya crouched behind an old park bench, just outside of an area dubbed Private Bathysphere Transport. When Benjamin approached her, she shushed him. She appeared to be looking at something.

Out in the street there stood a young woman in faded and tattered clothing, no older than Veronica or Sonya. She was hunched over a fresh corpse, sticking a needle into the veins around the neck. The woman's skin was a sickly green tint, and her eyes were glazed over with a yellow hue.

"What the hell is that thing?" Sonya asked.

"I don't know, but it's in our way. Soren, Knox, go scare her off." Benjamin ordered.

Soren and Knox moved in on the girl. She ignored them for a moment, taking the time to pull the needle out and drink a vial of red fluid that had been drained from the corpse she was guarding. Once the pair came within about two paces of her, however, she let out a single droning scream.

"Stay back, mister!" The girl said to Soren. "Big Brother gets jealous when other splicers come and try to play with Cherami." Cherami said, before resuming her ear-splitting screaming session.

The entire squad plus Veronica covered their ears. In a fit of desperation, Knox reached for his sidearm. He was about to wave it threateningly in the girls direction, but was violently interrupted when someone shot a bullet right through his hand. Knox fell to the floor.

"Cherami, leave this place." boomed a man who was just emerging from the bathysphere hub. He was holding a pair of revolvers. One of which he had trained at Soren, and the second of whom he aimed at Benjamin's hiding spot. He had a long duster on that was white with the occasional black and dark blue highlight.

"Oh, I miss the hidey-holes!" Cherami said, skipping down the halls while humming the tune to some antiquated lullaby. The squad rushed out from behind cover to back Soren up.

This new foe eyed them up, gauging their strength. "Is it someone new? Figures. Splicers don't mess with the Little Sisters at this point. They know better. My name is Philip Starck. Bellum is watching; I am its eyes, ears, and sword."

* * *

You'd be forgiven for seeing a few similarities between Philip Starck and Bleachs Coyote Starrk. They are both named after an architect, for one.

There will be no exploding energy wolves shot out of this Starck's revolvers, I promise.


	6. Breather Episode

It has been quite a while, hasn't it?

Consider this a bit of a breather chapter, setting up for a future plot point. I'm stuck in a bit of a rut trying to think of just how I can get Benji out alive from this dual-wielding magmum cowboy acid-ammo slinging badass that I've envisioned.

* * *

Kerrigan Fowl sat in his PMCs temporary headquarters just outside of Beirut, Lebanon. He was lounging nonchalantly in his chair.

The headquarters was an armored tent with a few windows to look out over the countryside. A pair of technicians was on duty at their desks. On occasion, they would relay information about the company's latest exploits to the commander. Kerrigan seemed to take little in the way of interest in these reports, paying attention only when news of casualty reports was wired to him.

The youngest technician went by the name of Zachary. He was responsible for fielding all messages from theatres around the Atlantic. He was also a public relations official of sorts for the region. If a NATO country came knocking wanting to know just what Fowl Securities was doing in their sphere of influence, Zach would be responsible for getting the alliance off their case.

Zach and his partner sat in their seats for the first several hours of their shift, bulky earphones glued to their heads. They'd forward the occasional report to the commander, but for the most part this was an unnaturally quiet day.

Suddenly, Zach's earphones began picking up a strange series of clicks. It sounded kind of like Morse code. Zach stared at his console, dumbfounded. His Morse was a little bit rusty at this point, and this message was a little more than the standard SOS.

"Sir?" Zach said.

Kerrigan had fallen asleep and was unresponsive. He even started to snore a little.

"Sir?" Zach repeated, a little louder this time.

This time, Kerrigan yawned, and sat up straight in his chair. "Yeah, what've we got?" He said grumpily.

"It's Morse, commander. At least, I think it is."

Kerrigan drowsily rose from his seat and walked over to Zachary's station. Zach lent him the earphones, and waited as Kerrigan translated the message into proper English.

"It's gibberish." the commander concluded. "It's just some old advertisement for an athletic-enhancer. Just keep an eye on it." Kerrigan returned to his seat.

A few more hours past, and Zachary kept getting strange messages, all in Morse code. Zach broke out the old codebook and got to work. Most were ads for wine companies, tram services, and cigarettes that Zach had never heard of.

About twelve messages in, Zach arrived at a proper distress signal.

"Er, Commander, I think I've got something here." Zach said, jotting down the message as fast as he could.

"Oh, what is it now?" Kerrigan rasped.

"Remember that group we had on duty up near Greenland?"

"Cameron and Ben's group? The ones working for that seedy oil company lady? I remember them." Kerrigan nodded dismissively.

"Yes, we lost contact with them a few hours ago. Now, I'm getting a signal from one initiate Jenkins. He requests immediate backup."

"Well, what're we waiting for then? Go send some reinforcements. I'm surprised the Greenlanders were able to put up such strong resistance!" Kerrigan began to move back to his seat.

"It's a little more complicated than that, sir. The message says something about being underwater, and coming prepped for close quarter's fights."

"Ah, damn it Ben, what have you gotten yourself into now? Damn you, for making me work like this." Kerrigan scratched his five-o-clock shadow before spending a few minutes in deep thought.

"Fine! I want every submersible we can muster up there within 8 hours." Fowl commanded. "I'm going to direct this personally! Ben had best be dead by the time I get up there, or else I'll give him something to really distress about."

* * *

Tests and an original story have been taking up most of my time recently. Hence why new installments have slowed to a crawl.


End file.
